


The Garfield Zone

by bellafarallones



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, M/M, TAZ Candlenights Exchange 2020, slapstick violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28614261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafarallones/pseuds/bellafarallones
Summary: The Raven Queen recruits Kravitz, an actual human accountant, to resolve some problems with her soul-bookkeeping. And when Kravitz shows up to confront Garfield the Deals Warlock for his crimes, he's not the only customer in the store. (It's Taako. Taako is also having a fight with Garfield at the same time.)This is a Candlenights Exchange gift for @inalizeth on Twitter! Happy Candlenights!
Relationships: Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41
Collections: The Candlenights Zone (2020 Exchange)





	The Garfield Zone

In the beige world of the office, Kravitz stood out: sharp black suit, dreadlocks ornamented with gold beads glinting in the fluorescent light, red paisley silk tie. He also stood out because his was the corner office with big windows and his name on the door. 

But after he got off the bus on the way home, his suit melted into the shadows, he dropped his gaze and his practiced expression of neutral competence, and he could have been anyone. 

Wingbeats were nothing underneath the noise of cars and people, and so he didn’t notice the raven following him, fluttering from one sidewalk tree to the next. The doorman of the apartment building might have noticed a black bird land a few feet behind Kravitz as he approached the threshold, but it took off again and was quickly forgotten.

Alone in the elevator Kravitz closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, counting the soft beeps as floors passed. The strap of a messenger bag full of paperwork dug into his shoulder even through three layers of clothing. 

His apartment was, to put it generously, decorated with minimalism in mind. He set his bag down on the bare coffee table and went into the bedroom to hang up his jacket. 

A loud rapping at the window made him turn around. There was a raven perched on the windowsill, black iridescent feathers and thick beak. Kravitz moved towards the window. The raven nodded to the latch, or seemed to, because ravens didn’t do stuff like that. 

Kravitz flipped the latch on the window and slid it up.

“Hello,” said the raven pleasantly.

Kravitz made an undignified noise and stumbled backwards, landing on his back on his bed.

The raven cocked its head at him. “You’re not as observant as I’d hoped you’d be.”

Kravitz sat up. The bird was still there, still looking at him. “Well, I wouldn’t expect too much, given that I’m apparently on drugs.”

“You don’t seem like the type.”

“I’m talking to a bird.”

The raven took a moment to preen. “Kravitz,” it continued. “I am the Raven Queen, and I am here to offer you a job.”

“You’re the queen of all the ravens? In the whole world?”

“No. I am a goddess responsible for enforcing the laws of life and death. The Raven Queen is simply my title and I assumed this form for ease of movement in the material plane.”

Kravitz sighed. He was very tired, and if he was going to talk to a bird, he wanted to at least have a glass of water while he did it. “Would you like to come in?”

“Thank you.” The raven flapped after him and perched on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Kravitz took a glass from the cabinet, filled it at the sink, and sat down across from the raven. “There have been anomalies, recently, in our bookkeeping. Our expenses are not money, of course, but souls moving from one world to the next. I need you to identify the source of the anomalies and rectify the situation.”

“Why me?”

“Your skill set and personality are unusually well-suited to this particular job.”

Kravitz took a sip of water and put his glass down on the table. “Probably true.”

“I apologize for my inability to contact you through normal means,” the Raven Queen continued, “but the compensation I can provide will make it more than worth your time.”

“Even if I can understand your bookkeeping, how am I supposed to ‘rectify the situation?’”

“I can give you the tools for the job.” The Raven Queen looked meaningfully to the side, and there, leaning against the wall beside the fridge, was a scythe that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Taller than Kravitz was, with a long curved blade and dark wood handle.

“Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

Kravitz stood up and took hold of the scythe, swishing it experimentally. It felt easy, almost natural. “It’s a little big. Am I supposed to take the bus carrying this?”

“The bus won’t be necessary. The scythe can create portals through reality, allowing you to travel instantly from place to place.”

“Woah.” Kravitz swished the scythe again, and a rip appeared in the air, through which he could see his bed. He turned around and saw a portion of the kitchen floating in his bedroom as well. 

“The other power I can offer you is the ability to possess objects. But the first step is identifying the source of the anomalies. Are you interested?”

“If I agree to work for you, you won’t take my soul or anything?”

The raven opened its beak in what might have been a smile. “I am interested in maintaining the laws of reality, not perverting them.”

“Alright. I’m in.”

\--

Later that evening, Kravitz received, via email, Excel files tracking the souls of everyone who had ever lived. The documentation was unconventional, but Kravitz could figure out what he was looking at. Clearly the Raven Queen didn’t employ too many accountants. Kravitz knew all the sophisticated techniques people used to conceal fraudulent transactions and cover their tracks, but nothing like that was happening here. 

The numbers of people dying didn’t match up with the numbers of people entering the Sea of Souls and the Eternal Stockade. The number of people currently alive didn’t match up with the number of people being born and dying. The tally of “people currently alive” was definitely correct, a count of the number of souls inhabiting human bodies at any one time. So people were either dying without going to either of the correct destinations, or inhabiting human bodies without being born first.

The next morning on the way to the bus stop Kravitz passed a flyer on a telephone pole that he’d passed a dozen times before, but never really registered. Black type on a white background, bolded and italicized. **_Are YOU interested in a DEMONIC PATRON for your SINISTER MACHINATIONS??!!??_** Beneath it was a phone number and an address of a place a few streets away. 

Kravitz took a picture of the flyer and continued to work.

He left early that evening, at least by his usual standards, and so it was still light outside when he arrived at the address on the flyer, which turned out to be a pawn shop. A fat orange cat looked lazily up at Kravitz from a bed in the window. 

The shop bell dinged halfheartedly. The man behind the counter looked up from a tattered paperback novel. “Hello, weary traveler!” he half-shouted without getting up. “Everything in here is for sale except for the cat!”

“Cute cat,” Kravitz said noncommittally, approaching the counter. The door behind the counter was a little ajar, and behind it he could see a flight of stairs leading up into the darkness. “I saw your flyer.”

“Ah, I should have known a man as sharply-dressed as you would have an appetite for demons! I’m Garfield!” Garfield had a buzz cut and a supremely forgettable face, in sharp contrast to his bright pink zebra-print sweatpants and orange flannel. 

\--

Kravitz changed his clothes three times that night before scything back to the pawn shop. Would it be best to dress casually, to match Garfield’s style? But he generally felt more comfortable in formalwear; looking good could counteract some of his own awkwardness. 

He settled somewhere in between, skinny jeans and a gray cashmere sweater over a navy blue button-down. No tie, but two tiny silver pins on the collar. Not casual, but not something he’d wear to work either.

Then he gripped the Raven Queen’s scythe in his hands, planted his feet, and cut a portal into space.

The pawn shop was lit now only by the streetlights outside, glinting on the jewelry in the case beneath the counter. Kravitz vaulted easily over the counter and slipped through the door. The light was on upstairs, and he could hear a radio playing.

Garfield appeared silhouetted at the top of the stairs. He was wearing a loose robe, now, like a wizard’s, except it was made of purple terry cloth. “Hello!” he shouted.

“You’re a lich, and I am here to collect your soul on behalf of the Raven Queen.”

“Of course I’m a lich! Cats don’t live very long, and there’s a lot I want to do!”

“But you’re not a cat.”

“So it would seem!” Garfield’s body had seemed human in daylight, but now the robe concealed how his limbs fit together, now he lunged forward and scampered down the stairs on his hands and feet. 

_ Human hips don’t  _ move  _ that way,  _ Kravitz thought vaguely before Garfield’s body slammed against the handle of the scythe. 

Then Garfield gripped the back of his shirt, which Kravitz appreciated, because that shirt was nice and expensive but not as delicate as the sweater, and dragged him backwards and across the landing and down another flight of stairs. “What the  _ fuck? _ ” said Kravitz, and repeated it all the way down, “fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!”

His tailbone hurt from thumping down the stairs, and Garfield’s robe smelled like tuna salad. The scythe clattered to the concrete floor, and Garfield’s knees dug into Kravitz’s stomach, hauling him up and pressing him down again. Then Garfield backed away. 

Kravitz still couldn’t move. Leather straps bound his wrists and ankles to the corners of a wooden table. “Are you going to kill me?” he said, straining to keep Garfield in view.

“Of course not!” said Garfield. “You’re not a real reaper! Besides, you look rich, and maybe I can convince you to buy something!”

Garfield flipped a switch somewhere, the machine looming above Kravitz crackled to life, and a guttering red laser beam connected with the wooden surface between Kravitz’s knees. Kravitz craned his neck to see what was happening, and the laser beam started to move slowly upwards, up between his legs.

Then there was the sound of smashing glass. Garfield’s hand left the controls, and the laser stopped moving. Thundering footsteps down the stairs. A man appeared in the doorway and flipped on the lights, suddenly illuminating the whole of the basement, which was all gray concrete and plastic shelving units stacked with stuff. 

“Garfield, don’t tell me you’re double-booked! _ ”  _ said the man in the doorway. He walked purposefully towards one of the shelves, where he yanked a purple umbrella from the bottom of the pile, sending an old crockpot crashing to the floor. 

“How am I the only person who’s not a goddamn Looney Tunes character?” said Kravitz.

“Hey, handsome,” said the newcomer in a way that made Kravitz’s stomach flip. “I’m gay. Of course I’m dramatic.”

Kravitz blushed and hated himself for it. “Uh. Me too? I’m gay, too, I mean. I don’t know about the drama thing. I’m Kravitz, by the way.”

“Taako. We can talk about it once I’m done kicking Garfield’s ass.” He raised the umbrella and fired off a blast of light, and Garfield dived out of the way, yowling. 

Kravitz took a few deep breaths and tried to think. The scythe was on the floor at his feet. Garfield hadn’t seemed particularly concerned about it. But that wasn’t the only gift the Raven Queen had given him.

Garfield had scampered up on top of one of the shelves now, and Taako was trying to hit him with the umbrella. They were both yelling. 

Kravitz looked up at the laser gun above him and left his body. In an instant he  _ was  _ the laser, aiming his red gaze away from his own body beneath him - was he still breathing? - and towards Garfield. 

Garfield made a little  _ mrp  _ noise and pounced on the laser beam, covering it with his hands. “Shit!” he said, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from chasing it as Kravitz moved again, sending Garfield leaping up against the wall. 

Taako had moved over to the table where Kravitz’s body lay and was undoing the straps binding him. “Shit, dude, did you just pass out?” 

Then the laser spun out of control and Kravitz was back, gasping, in his own body. He was both disappointed and relieved that the laser was harmless. “No,” he said, rubbing his wrists. “I just had to get out to possess the laser.”

“You’re magic, too?”

“It’s a recent development.” Kravitz slid off the table and picked up the scythe, whirling around to look for Garfield again, but he was gone. “Where did Garfield go?”

Taako shrugged. “I got what I came here for.”

“I didn’t! I think I was supposed to kill him!”

“You  _ think?” _

“I’m rather new at this.”

“Look, this is a fascinating conversation that I’d love to continue, but maybe we should get out of here first? I did smash a window and someone will probably notice.”

“Good point.” Kravitz used the scythe to tear a rift into his own living room, and held out a hand. “Care to join me?”

Taako took his hand and followed him through the rift. “Where are we?”

It suddenly caught up with Kravitz that he’d just ushered a stranger into his home, a stranger with a white-blond braid and a plunging neckline. He dropped Taako’s hand. “Um. This is my apartment. Sorry, it was the first place I thought of. The front door’s over there, we’re only a couple blocks away from the pawn shop.”

Taako flopped down on the sofa, still holding the umbrella. “Most guys buy me dinner before they take me home with them,” he said, but he was smiling.

Kravitz couldn’t even process that. He was still staring at the golden point of the umbrella. “You can do  _ magic?” _

“Sure I can, but buddy, you’ve led me to believe that you possessed a laser and I know you’ve got some hella teleportation magic going on besides.”

Kravitz thought for a moment. “Good point. What were you doing there, anyway?”

“Stealing this back,” he said, and tapped the umbrella on the floor. “But you seemed like you could use my help back there, and you’re good-looking, and I am nothing if not charitable, so if you want help with your thing…”

“Is tomorrow okay? I’ll give you my number.” Kravitz rifled through a kitchen drawer for a pad of paper and a pen. “But you do need to leave now, because I have work in the morning and I need to go to sleep.”

Taako stood up, slung the umbrella over his shoulder like a bat, and took the piece of paper with Kravitz’s number on it. “Goodnight, handsome,” Taako said with a sharp smile, and then he was out the door and gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to hit me up on Tumblr @bellafarallones!


End file.
